The day Ralph died, our neighbor rolled up in his wheelchair with his typical expectant look.  This was his morning tradition for the past two days when Ralph got a hospital bed facing his beautiful lanai for his scenic journey.  With tears in my eyes, I nodded that yes, he had gotten his wings.  Tom asked for a hug and then whispered that I should now dress more like a lady and wear a little make up.
Tom had a stroke 15 years ago and is 89 years old.  Speaking is difficult for him and he sports hearing aids in both ears.  Having a conversation with him requires 100% concentration.  
Still, I was a bit taken aback.  Really?  Of course I do dress in Hawaiian sweats (baggy cotton capris and oversized t-shirt).  Lately I had been crying so much (in private, of course, so I didn't interfere with Ralph's joie de vivre) that it made no sense to put on makeup.  Maybe Tom had a point.  If I look cheerful, maybe I can manage cheerful.
That was an awkward moment.  Unfortunately, it was just the first of many to come.
 
 
 
 
 
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